A Most Unfortunate Twist of Fate
by Queen Mafalda
Summary: They had only known of hatred, shouldering a rivalry from centuries past. But we all know what they say when opposites attract. For then they soon realized the decadence of ages, and how true love could bloom from even the most tortured of hearts.
1. Left you a Fool

**AN: Just trying out a very odd pairing. I'm not sure where this will go. If I don't get very encouraging feedback, I may just scrap this story entirely. But I will post this for now, in case there is any hope. I'm having an awful bout of writer's block with my other fics, which is why I'm generating these random plot bunnies on whim. **

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**Disclaimer: JKR owns.**

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I slink down into my seat at the Slytherin table.

Blaise Zabini nods to me in greeting and I can feel that Draco's hand has already made its way to my thigh. I swat it away sending him a rather sly smirk and he only turns to match mine with one of his own. I grin inwardly. Old habits die hard.

"Oi, Pansy!" Theodore Nott shouts from across the table.

I arch an eyebrow in his direction, setting down the pumpkin juice in my hand as a decorative piece of parchment lands in front of me.

"Some bloody owl mistook Millicent Bulstrode for you this morning," he continued from his seat. I almost snarled aloud at the thought. I spy Millicent turn a rather brilliant shade of red as she almost chokes on a scone half-lodged in her throat.

I send her a sickeningly sweet smile ", OK there, Milli?" I ask stuffing the note into my cloak for a later read.

She nods, hurriedly downing the remains of her pastry. I look up from the Slytherin table, catching sight of the Gryffindors. A pathetic lot, I mused. Granger's hair looked bushier than normal, standing out in all ends. I was surprised that it didn't get into the Weasel's way as he smothered his face with whatever was edible in sight. I sneered; it was almost like he had never seen food before.

I heard Draco chuckle from beside me. "No reason to mar your features, with an expression like that," he murmured, leaning in enough that I could smell the very essence of his choice cologne for the season.

I smirked as my attention refocused on the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter sat surrounded by his friends laughing heartily at someone's joke. I sighed, though begrudgingly so. Even I had to admit that I had a small thing for the famous boy-who-lived. It was all lust that was for sure. I just wished to ravish him for one night. Stare into those emerald green eyes as he whispered sweet nothings to me. It was embarrassing to say the least. If anyone at the Slytherin table ever gained a whiff of my naughty desire, I would surely be dethroned in an instant. I watched as Potter made conversation with little Weaslette who sat beside him at the Gryffindor table. His toned arms shone from beneath the light cotton of his Quidditch Robes. I groaned to myself, I hated teenage hormones.

This time it was Blaise's turn to comment, "If I didn't know you any better Pansy, I'd say you were ogling Potter."

I let out a rather bark-like laughter, scaring a few third years down the table.

"Don't insult me so, Blaise. I was only the watching the brewing of a rather pathetic relationship between Weaslette and Potter."

Daphne Greengrass let out a snort from beside me. "Just look at her, eyeing Potter, it's almost disgusting," she complained while inspecting her newly done nails.

"Of course it is. This is Potter after all," Draco affirmed, his eyes narrowing in disgust. All this talk must have somehow managed to spark some sort of telepathic connection with the Gryffindor, for in that exact moment the Golden Boy decided to grace us with a glance of his own, only to find a gang of Slytherin's staring right back. He looked at me, and I shot him a seductive wink. I watched as he gulped awkwardly, his eyes wide behind those black-rimmed spectacles, his jaw hanging. Draco swiveled his head to look at me. "What did you just do?" he asked, noticing Harry's peculiar choice of expression. "It's not like the boy-who-lived to show such obvious signs of…discomfort."

I shrugged nonchalantly, gathering my stuff to leave.

"Who cares," I retorted with such indifference, that even Salazar Slytherin may have been proud.

Draco nodded, eyeing me in farewell. "See you at the game then, Parkinson," he called after me.

I tilted my head to the side, sending him a sly grin from across my shoulder. "Just make my time well spent," I called back exiting through the double doors of the Great Hall and into the hallway within.

I made my way up to the dungeons and into the girl's dormitory. Pulling out the now crumpled letter from my cloak pocket I noticed it was yet another anonymous note.

The messy scrawl was almost unintelligible; I couldn't even bear to imagine who this person may be.

_Can't wait to see you at the game._

Really now? I thought aloud. This admirer was definitely the more demure and daft of its kind. I signed, tossing it into the rubbish bin by my desk and settling on the comforters of my bed.

I gazed outside; it was the perfect day for a game. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, it would be the match of the year.

I could feel my eyes glaze over at the idea of watching Potter fly on his broomstick. I almost let out a girlish shriek at the thought. Perhaps it was the thought of him being so noble and unattainable that made the very sight of Harry Potter so irresistible. But whatever it was, I knew this newfound interest would not be going away any time soon. I had to do something about it. But what? I had no female confidantes to help me sort through such a girlish endeavor. Not to mention all of Slytherin would hate me if they knew my newest eye candy was none other than every Slytherin's archenemy.

I was no idiot, of course I knew all about the upcoming war, of Potter vs. Voldemort, of the Death Eaters and the goody-goody Aurors out to get them. But to be honest, I had no interest in such over-dramatized squabbles. I wished to live a pleasant and at least mildly satisfying life, not to harass my mind with the looming call from those meddling with the dark arts.

I sighed to myself, eyeing the letter now in my waste bin, I small smirk suddenly spread across my face, as I grabbed a blank scrap of parchment from by night stand along with a quill

_With looks like those, no Weasley could do you justice. Allow me. _I wrote.

Grabbing my wand, I magicked the parchment to wherever dearest Potter maybe residing. I rolled back on to my side, a smile playing on my lips. I just wanted to do him and get it over with. I hated the idea of such a budding infatuation and for a perky little Gryffindor nonetheless. Once I could get this over with, I could dwell in peace and even have a little something to flaunt over the annoying Weaslette.

Only minutes later I received a most amusing reply.

_Cho, is that you?_

I let out a ringing laugh, this definitely could be fun.

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**AN: Please review!**


	2. Thrice Defied

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**Chapter 2: Thrice Defied**

I stood up from where I sat, placing the note within the sleeve of an old Potions text. An immediate response would sound too desperate; I would have to wait it out a bit, perhaps respond after the day's Quidditch match. I sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

I glanced outside; maniacal fans were already filling into the stands. Soon I would be amongst them, and allowed to watch Potter all I wanted without a care in the world. No one could question me then, nor wonder why my eyes followed his every move. The others would be too absorbed in the game themselves to pay heed. The beauty of the entire concept was simply mesmerizing.

I did a small turn in front of the long mirror, making sure my appearance was just. After all, it seemed that I not only played the role of a secret admirer these days, but also that of the admired. One had to look their best in such circumstances, and I, Pansy Parkinson, could always excel in that matter. Looking fantastic was what I did best.

My thoughts were interrupted as Daphne Greengrass entered the dormitory, her face holding the same indifferent gaze as it always did.

"Ready for the game, I see," she stated in an almost questioning tone.

I fixed my scarf, my stare quickly becoming nonchalant. "I promised I'd go."

Daphne nodded, rummaging about her trunks, ending our exchange as quickly as she had started it.

I sometimes wondered why the other girl even bothered to start a conversation. Her expression and tone usually expressed a complete lack of interest, and yet she still would immerse herself in the worst small-talk of its kind.

I reached for the door handle, ready to leave as Daphne called out from behind me, "by the way, Draco was looking for you earlier…he said he wanted a word with you before the match."

I nodded, smirking to myself. Chances were that Draco wanted a nice _snog_ before the match. Fat chance, I thought to myself. There was no way I was letting Draco Malfoy muss my appearance before the game of the year. I had to look pristine, simply perfect.

Upon entering Hogwarts grounds, I couldn't help but subtly seek out the Gryffindor Quidditch team, hoping that they too were amongst the vast grounds, milling about.

My face lit up as I caught sight of a nervous looking Ronald Weasley, but it soon reversed into a frown, as I realized his best mate was nowhere in sight.

I hoped Potter wasn't off frolicking with the likes of Ginny Weasley again I knew she had also made it into the Gryffindor Quidditch team these past few years, and proved to be quite athletic, the same couldn't be said for her brother dearest.

I groaned, clearly disgruntled. I couldn't have Potter distracted by some lowly blood traitor at a time like this. Knowing how loyal and noble Gryffindors usually were, there would be no chance of getting to him if he already had set his sights on another.

I marched on, pulling my robes closer to myself as the wind picked speed. I noticed that Draco had taken to flying rounds about the Quidditch pitch. I watched as he agilely skimmed through the air, the wind breezing through his platinum blonde hair. But he was no match for Potter. Something about Harry and Quidditch was simply legendary. Draco had the acquired skills, but Potter had the determination, the sheer talent to guarantee victory. It was all rather impressive at first thought, until you realized you were simply getting overtly mushy over a goody-two shoed Gryffindor. Then the feeling would just pass.

I took my seat between Graham Pritchard and Blaise Zabini just as Loony Lovegood began her silly commentating. I could feel my heart race as Potter took flight, a focused expression gracing his face. On the other side of the field, the Slytherin team had just emerged. Marcus Flint _already_ had a smirk on his face, and the game hadn't even begun.

I watched as Potter shared a look with the Weaslette, my heart twanged at the gesture. Crossing my arms, I sat on the bench, quite disgruntled by my emotions regarding Potter. It was almost as if I actually had a crush on him, which was obviously impossible. It was all lust. Lust. Lust. Lust.

I groaned inwardly, this was going to be a long semester.

Blaise must have sensed my distress, for he glanced at me oddly. "You OK there Parkinson?" he questioned.

"Fine," I huffed, more to myself than to him.

"Has something come up between you and Draco?" he probed.

Now I was mad. "There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Draco!" I hissed back.

Zabini nodded, though I sensed he was not quite convinced, "whatever you say Pansy," he responded.

I growled, trying to focus back on the game. Gryffindor was way in the lead, and it was obvious that Slytherin was playing foul at any possible chance. Potter was still flying in search of the snitch and I noticed Draco was more watching Potter than for any signs of the impossibly small, golden orb. Typical, I thought to myself, Slytherins always try to find the easiest way out.

Lo and behold, it only took another 15 minutes before Potter found the snitch and won the game. The Slytherins bemoaned the defeat as if it were unexpected. Tough luck, I thought to myself. It was more than obvious to anyone with at least half a brain, that the Slytherins stood no chance against the Gryffindors. With such worth ethic and a rigorous practice schedule, it really came as no surprise that the Slytherins had lost this match. If there was one thing that the house's cunning half-hearted tactics didn't work on, it definitely was with Quidditch.

Leaving the stands I watched as a crowd built up around Potter, he grinned victoriously, the snitch still clasped within his hand as he pumped the other into the air. The girl army nearby "ooh"-ed and "ahh"-ed over "handsome Harry Potter" and his "amazing Quidditch talent." It was almost sickening, really. I wondered how they could stand the sight of themselves, commenting excessively over his "cuteness" and "beautiful green eyes." Sure, Potter was a pleasant sight to the sore eye, but the sappy commentary really had to stop.

While watching the fan-club with a disgusted glare, I happened to make brief eye contact with the person in question. Holding his gaze for a few seconds, I surprised him with a soft smile of my own. He continued staring, his jaw slightly ajar as if making sure that I was in fact, Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin Queen. Yep, that was me. And I had just publicly hit on Harry freaking Potter.

I glanced past him only to find the Weaslette glaring fiercely in my direction.

Little Ginny Weasley was flipping a shit.

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	3. Desires of a Tortured Heart

**AN: Thanks for the great reviews! The alerts/favorite-ing for this story really shot up after the previous chapter. I am glad you all are enjoying the story. Cheers to 2010 :) And now here's a quick update for the New Year! Please R&R!**

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**Chapter 3: Desires of a Tortured Heart**

Back in the Slytherin common room, a brooding storm had settled within. Marcus Flint's permanent sneer had now transformed into a steady grimace as he sat, still dressed in his Quidditch attire. I sighed, my fingers idly gliding through Draco's soft hair. His head lay on my lap as we sat in front of the fireplace. The conversation, or what was of it, had died down a while ago. Draco's once caustic remarks had quickly been reduced to infrequent mutterings as time took its toll.

I stared into the dying embers, replaying my previous encounter with Potter over and over again in my mind. The image of his emerald green eyes flashed into sight and I had to use all of my self control to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up in a grin. There was something simply mesmerizing about the boy-who-lived.

I couldn't help the tingling sensation that filled my body at the very thought of him. It was rather unnerving to be honest, to feel such extreme emotions for a Gryffindor of all people. I blinked, pretending that it was in fact Harry's head which lay in my lap. I groaned inwardly, as I felt a sudden blush rush into my cheeks.

Draco was getting restless, I could tell, as I felt his head fidget about uncertainly. I glanced down at the supposed heartthrob of Slytherin wondering what it was about him that had captured the eyes of so many members of our house. Perhaps it was because I had grown up with Draco, knowing him since his childhood days, but I saw neither prince nor knight in this classmate of mine. But what I did find was a loyal companion and a trustworthy one at that. It was true; the Malfoy heir had been my first love, whatever that meant at the naïve age of 14. Though my life would have proved to be much easier had Draco still captured my fancy, my heart had picked the damned Potter instead to be the object of its affection. I wanted to punch the wall at the very thought of crushing over Scarhead. It was repulsive, yet at the same time, so horribly…exhilarating.

Soon the members of the common room trickled away, many pushing aside their remorse over Slytherins' loss to make preparations for dinner. I hadn't even realized the time or the sun set, until my stomach rumbled softly from within the depths my heavy cloak. I sat straight, my hand now on Draco's shoulders.

"Draco," I murmured, pulling his right shoulder towards me so that he no longer lay on his side. He peered up at me, his grey eyes full of indifference.

"I'll go," he stated, quickly standing up and making his way to the boy's dormitories. I watched his retreating figure, looking over the shortness of his words. I could understand his misery; losing to Potter was never something he had handled well.

I too took leave, walking up towards my room and sitting down at the aged Hogwarts desk. Pulling out the piece of parchment bearing Potter's message, I stared at it intently. I had yet to reply.

Without much thought, I hastily wrote down the first few words which came to mind.

_Think again, my friend. Somewhere reigns a girl more splendid than the infamous Cho Chang._

Tapping the parchment with the edge of my wand, I watched as it disappeared from sight. I had to be particular in my choice wording; calling him Potter would practically scream Slytherin or hint at a possible prankster from another house. And terms of endearment were really not my thing. Though I was in fact a Slytherin, my goal was not to scare him off, but rather to lure him in. Revealing my house would have to wait until a more stable correspondence had been established. For now I would tease him with a series of ambiguities. Elusiveness was key.

Changing into a more comfortable outfit, I made my way into the Great Hall alongside Millicent Bulstrode. Her hefty figure marched beside my petite one as she spoke to me of the upcoming Potions exams. During my first year at Hogwarts I had never taken Millicent to be much of a scholar. But a few unwarranted visits to the library later and I realized the fellow Slytherin was as much of an academic as her father had proved to be. She was nothing like Potter's mudblood lackey Granger, yet much like Draco and myself she preferred to keep up with her studies and not blunder about like Crabbe and Goyle so often chose to do so.

I entered through the double doors, surveying the room with an air of haughtiness. I hated that my eyes so quickly probed the crowds, scouting for Potter. I made sure that my gaze was at least apathetic; any emotion too extreme and my Slytherin qualities would immediately be questioned. Blaise entered the Great Hall soon after I did, taking seat across from Millicent and I as he did so. I noticed Draco's obvious absence looking up questioningly at the other Slytherin.

"He said he's not in the mood. You know how he can be," Blaise stated, swiftly answering my unasked question.

I nodded, looking beyond him to the Gryffindor table to where Potter sat. I noticed that despite sitting amongst all his friends who were immersed in chatter, Harry Potter was in a world of his own as he absently picked at the food before him.

I smiled to myself, taking the moment to just watch him as I bit into a cob of corn. Even his smallest of jaw movements were eerily enthralling to watch. The more I stared, the more I wished to simply devour him on the spot without a care in the world.

I glanced back at my plate as I noticed Potter had started to look about the Great Hall in what seemed to be a boredom of some sort. Daphne had just arrived and begun speaking immediately to Millicent as she sat down, jabbering on about trivial Slytherin gossip. The tirade was getting old; I wished the girl would just shut up already. If only she could hear herself speak. It had to be the most tiresome thing ever.

Tuning out the other two, I suddenly realized how much I missed Draco's presence. Even Blaise had picked conversation with two 5th years girls sitting to his right. I glanced up from my plate again in an effort to continue watching Potter.

I could feel my heart take flight as I found the handsome Gryffindor already staring in my direction. I had expected him to turn away immediately the second our eyes met, but he simply sat as he was, gazing right back at me. I felt as if we were in a staring contest of some sort, watching each other like this from opposite ends of the Great Hall. My insides burned and my cheeks flushed under his gaze. It was all too much, my Slytherin indifference was quickly receding and I found myself suddenly turning into another bumbling idiot of a girl. I could only sit dazed under the sight of the boy-who-lived, soaking in every single moment of it.

I couldn't believe what was happening; never did I imagine capturing Potter's attention so soon. It was all too much; I wished I could just speak to him for a second, peck him on the cheek in a rush, just anything to quell my heart's desire.

My heart thudded erratically from within me. It was almost as if he knew.

For this time it was Harry Potter's turn to flash me a knowing smile.

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	4. Of Magic and Mayhem

**AN: I'm glad to see that so many of you are enjoying this story. The alerts for this fic have really shot up. I would appreciate if those of you who add this story as a favorite/alert would review as well :) It really is very encouraging for an author to get promising reviews. Especially since I have never read any HP/PP fics myself, this is all very new to me. Anyways, here is the next installment of **_**A Most Unfortunate Twist of Fate,**_** I hope you all enjoy!**

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**Chapter 4: Of Magic and Mayhem**

I suddenly looked down at my plate, gasping for air. My once-numb heart was racing a mile per second. I could feel the heat in my cheeks hold still, rendering myself a very flushed expression. I quickly gathered my belongings, muttering a few words in farewell, and hurriedly darted out of the Great Hall. Once entering the abandoned hallways of the ancient castle, I leaned against a stone wall, trying to catch my breath in haste. I hoped no one had noticed my overtly rushed exit. It was unlike me to seem so flustered, so out of control.

I could not believe my luck. I was falling for Potter, and falling hard. This had never been part of my plan. A temporary seduction had been my only goal, and yet I hear I stood as emotionally unstable as Ginny Weasley. I had not even spoken civilly to Potter since the start of my girlish fascination with him. Now I was even unable to control myself when caught under his gaze. What was happening to me? I was, Pansy Parkinson, serpent queen turned…foolish school girl? It was awful, simply horrifying.

I trudged about the castle, my gallant stride lost in the sudden upheaval of emotions I was experiencing. I found myself climbing the stairs towards the Astronomy Tower. How cliché, I couldn't help but think. It was Hogwart's _lovebird haven_, if anything. And it seemed I too had conformed and joined the masses whom so infrequently visited the landmark destination. Yet unlike the others, I came here alone, with no one to meet nor anyone to wait for. I gazed out, my eyes drawn by the beautiful view, a soft sigh escaping my lips. Sometimes it was so nice, to be alone, to just soak in the silence.

Later that night I found myself within the rustic walls of the school's library. Only tables away sat Granger and Weasley. I noticed that whilst Granger was hard at work, quickly scribbling down lines to what seemed to be an essay of some sort; the Weasel was aimlessly looking about, occasionally flipping the pages of his textbook whilst sneaking conspicuous glances at his friend's parchment.

I almost snorted aloud, wondering how Ronald Weasley had even made it this far in Hogwarts. If Marcus Flint could be held back for a second run through of 7th year, it was most surprising that Weasley hadn't been held back during his 1st.

I glanced down at my own homework, Defense Against the Dark Arts. I couldn't stand the rubbish; it was surely my least favorite class, second to Divination of course. Even Herbology often proved to be more interesting than what was taught in DADA.

I flipped through the assigned chapter, browsing the topics as I did so. I did not regret declining to stay back at the Slytherin common room along with Daphne and Blaise to work on homework. With all the noise in there, no thanks to the underclassmen, it was a wonder anyone got anything remotely academic done in there. It was only at nightfall or sporadically during the school day that any form of peace could be found in dungeons. I did not blame Granger for making such constant use of the library; it truly was the only place within the castle walls where solace could be found.

An hour and a foot of parchment later I grinned down at my handiwork. Homework had provided a sufficient distraction from the thoughts of Potter which were now ever present in my mind. I skimmed the lines of my essay, making sure I had not made any blatant errors. I smirked upon finishing my review of it, there was not even a single punctuation mark missing. The essay was pristine. I would have Draco look at it later, once he emerged from his sulking; the fair haired Slytherin always had a knack for DADA, as ironic as it sounded.

I glanced about the library; Granger and Weasley were still at their previous table. My heart stopped as I noticed that Potter had now joined them at some point in time, unbeknownst to me. Weasley had long fallen asleep, and was snoring quietly next to his best mates while Potter and Granger were immersed in quiet conversation. Their whispers so soft that I could not even hear the murmur of their voices from where I sat, but only see their lips move as they spoke, signaling their quiet exchange. I could not help but allow myself to watch him slyly from afar. He seemed troubled as his brow furrowed and a subconscious hand raked through his raven hair, momentarily exposing his infamous scar. Granger held a stern expression, a book clasped in her arm against her chest as if in defense. I had always found the mudblood exceptionally irritating, but I could not help but wonder if there was something beyond her stubborn know-it-all personality. Surely Potter could never find friendship in someone so bothersome, but then again he was friends with the dunderhead of a Weasley anyways.

Only minutes later, Granger stood up with her book still in hand, nodding towards Potter as she walked off. I presumed she had left to go return the book to it's a rightful place, good two-shoes as she was. I watched her as she disappeared around the corner, glancing back to where Potter and Weasley still remained. As my gaze returned to its previous destination I noticed that Potter had been staring at me as I had absently watched Granger leave.

I sat stone still, trying me best to hold an indifferent gaze and keep my cheeks from flushing a brilliant shade of red. It was hopeless. I looked down at my rolled up parchment, acting as if I were making sure it had been properly managed. I gulped audibly, in an effort to steady my heartbeat and keep my breathing from getting out of control as it had done earlier that day.

As I fruitlessly attempted to make myself look busy, I heard footsteps approaching in my direction. I didn't dare look up, out of fear. Whoever it was had come to a stop beside my table. All I could see from my dropped gaze was the black of his robes, but the subtle maroon lining was enough of a hint. Either Weasley had approached me in his sleep, or none other than Harry Potter stood before me.

I looked up to meet his gaze.

I almost wanted to let out a nervous giggle. Though his face remained unchanged, Potter's eyes seemed to reflect the same confusion I was feeling. As if he were wondering what drew him to approach a Slytherin of all people.

I arched an eyebrow, in a vain effort to seem nonchalant. "Can I help you?" I asked my gaze unmoving.

"I was…" he began, looking rather uncertain all of a sudden. "I was wondering…" he started again.

_Could it be?_ I wondered to myself in excitement…_That Potter liked me too?_ _That he wanted to ask me out? _My heart nearly soared out of my throat at the very thought, as absurd as it sounded. I had never imagined in a thousand years that I had so easily sent the message across to him and lived to receive such a ready reply.

"I was wondering…if I could borrow that book," he finally finished lamely. My heart plummeted, and I suddenly felt a bit disappointed…and rather angry. "Pince says that you're using the only available copy," he explained.

I wanted to sneer in disgust. He had raised my hopes for no reason, though it had been my fault for thinking such things. I shut the book, handing it to him, my gaze still as indifferent as ever. I almost felt hurt that our first encounter had been so unmemorable. He had even smiled at me earlier today, and now he stood before me as if none of it had ever happened.

I fumed, as he took hold of the book, turning to return to his seat. As I let go, I noticed a scrap of parchment fall from within his grasp.

"Potter, wait!" I whispered sharply at his retreating figure. The git did not even bother turning around and simply sat down at his table, flipping open the book as soon as he took seat. I could not believe him, acting so blasé with a Slytherin of all people. No one treated Pansy Parkinson like that. Boy-who-lived or not, he would pay for ignoring me.

I gazed at the scrap, which I had previously snatched from the air.

_._

.

_P,_

_Higher than the Gryffindor Tower, resides a throng of friends, wizards' closest followers._

_Meet me as day becomes night, at their quiet nesting sight._

_H._

_._

_._

My anger melted. I could no longer breathe.

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	5. A Riddle Revealed

**AN: I suppose being sick at home during winter break may have it perks. It leaves me with more time to work on my fanfics, which is always a good thing right? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it is definitely more action-filled than the last. I want to thank you all again for your continued support! **

**A special thanks to my most frequent reviewers FoxSpiritKing, Sunshine and Chocolate, and Kat0305. I really do appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 5: A Riddle Revealed**

Trying to reestablish a normal breathing pattern I reread the lines over and over again, my brow furrowing in confusion. I never would have imagined Boy Wonder to be a poet. And here he was, leaving me a note and in riddles nonetheless.

_Higher than Gryffindor Tower?_

_As night becomes day?_

I was intrigued beyond belief. Something about mysteries, and scavenger hunts just made things all the more exciting. I suppose it was the Slytherin in me, rearing out in an effort to master the cunning of others. I was glad to see that Potter was no ordinary chap, had the situation been reversed, he definitely would have the perfect technique to capture my attention, through a series of teasing riddles.

I glanced back down at the parchment trying to break apart the lines. The second part made more sense. Thetime when_ night becomes day_ would probably be hinting at midnight, when PM becomes AM. But where? Somewhere higher than Gryffindor Tower it said, where there _resided a group of friends_? _Wizards' closest followers?_

I couldn't even come to imagine who a wizard's follower could be. Surely not a house elf? That would lead to the kitchens, which was most definitely not a part of the castle which was higher than Gryffindor Tower. The one tower I knew to be even higher than the Gryffindor Tower was the Astronomy Tower, but which group of friends resided there?

I inspected the riddle once again, reading the lines quietly to myself. The word _nesting_ struck me as odd; I often thought such a term was only used to describe birds. But other than the occasional pigeon the only other birds to inhabit were….owls….

Wait…

Owls could easily be regarded as one of the _wizards' closest followers_; I knew Harry prized his own owl, Hedwig, which I was sure he saw as an equal along with Granger and Weasley. And there definitely was an entire flock of them in the Owlery on Hogwarts grounds.

That was it! It had to be, the only other place more elevated than Gryffindor Tower was the Astronomy Tower and the _Owlery_.

Sneaky little Potter wanted to meet on the sly at the Owlery, sharp midnight. I was ecstatic. With a grin of my own, I packed my belongings and walked out of the library passing the Golden Trio on my way out.

Despite not casting him a single glance, something told me Potter had been smiling to himself as I passed, I could just sense it.

Entering my dormitories, I found Millicent and Daphne already present.

"You missed dessert," Daphne said, stating the obvious. I wondered to myself why half of her statements sounded more like questions these days.

"So I did," I responded just as dully, unloading my day bag and putting away my things. As I glanced at my desk I noticed two pieces of stray parchment were to be found.

Quickly stuffing them into my cloak, I decided to look at them later. No reason to draw Millicent and Daphne's attention to something that was not their business. And knowing Daphne her gossiping would begin instantaneously, as she would begin speculating about who had been sending me these anonymous notes. It was a chain reaction that I was happy to avoid at all possible costs.

I noticed Millicent too was working on her essay for DADA. Only a few inches remained on her parchment, yet I could sense her annoyance by having to even do the assignment.

"I give up," she grumbled, placing her quill and parchment aside, "the rest will have to wait until after breakfast tomorrow."

I nodded, sitting down on my bed. "I just finished mine in the library; it was quite a bore of an assignment."

"As if any assignment is ever interesting," Daphne countered with a nasally voice.

"I meant in _comparison_," I countered, eyeing the other girl with a glare of my own.

Daphne broke my gaze, seeming to have no comeback of her own. I rolled my eyes kicking off my shoes and lying down on my comforter. I glanced at the time-teller on my nightstand, it was only 10 PM. I wondered again where Draco was and looked over at Millicent.

"Have you seen Malfoy?" I asked, pointedly asking the question to only her. I saw Daphne look rather snubbed from the corner of my eye, but I chose to ignore it.

"I saw him heading out to the Quidditch Pitch when I got back from dinner earlier, you may find him there," I nodded in thanks, getting up from my bed and opening up my closet.

I wanted to pick a more casual outfit for when I met up with Potter later that night. Not to mention, there was no reason to go meet Draco outside in school robes either.

After changing and making a routine 360 spin in front of the mirror, I grabbed my wand ready to head out again.

"Looking good for darling Draco?" asked Daphne from behind me. _A real question for once_, I thought sarcastically to myself, glancing back at Daphne.

"That's where you're mistaken dear," I replied in mock sincerity, "Pansy Parkinson always looks fantastic," and with that I walked out of the door leaving a rather miffed Daphne in my midst. As the door came to a complete shut I heard the distinct sound of Millicent's laughter filter through the aged wood. I smirked. No one dared talk down to a Parkinson, ever.

Tightening the clasp on my winter cloak I stepped into the chilly night air. I shivered slightly at the cold, but a pleasant smile broke out across my face. Tonight would not be like any night. Tonight I would be meeting Harry Potter, hero of Hogwarts by his request at midnight. I yearned to see him again, to be caught under his gaze. I hoped he would not be able to see me blush so profusely whilst with him in the Owlery, but my hopes would be in vain. Everyone knew how the moonlight often poured into the recesses of the Owlery at nighttime. And tonight would be no exception, the full moon was out and not a cloud was in sight.

I sighed, approaching the Quidditch pitch, quickly noticing Draco in the air, flying rounds around the pitch as he usually did. I sat down in the stands below, knowing full well that he would soon become aware of my presence. Very little that went unnoticed when Draco Malfoy was around.

As predicted, the other Slytherin touched ground only moments later, walking towards me, broom in hand. His pale hair was windswept; falling into his eyes which I noticed held a certain steely look of determination. I groaned to myself. He still wasn't quite over today's defeat.

I stood up silently approaching Draco, and pulling him in for a friendly embrace. I felt him stiffen at first but then relax as he lightly dropped his broom and brought his arms around me.

"Don't worry Draco," I murmured into his chest. I felt him nod against the top of my head as his chin rested against it. I pulled away, gazing up at him. There was a certain sadness about him though I knew he would never bear to admit it. I sent him a small smile in reassurance. He smiled back at me, picking up his prized broom from beside him.

"Like to go for a ride?" he asked gesturing to his Nimbus 2001.

I gazed at it uneasily. "I don't know Draco…it's been a while…"I said, eyeing the sleek broom uncertainly.

"Oh come on Parkinson!" he prodded, "it's only been two years," he continued, his eyes suddenly filling with a more foreign emotion, utter delight.

I sighed heavily, still unsure, yet finally conceding. But it was more for Draco's sake than anything else. If it would bring him out of his sullen mood, even momentarily, it would be worth it.

I climbed on, and Draco did as well behind me. I felt his arms encircle me as he grabbed hold of the smooth wood in front of me, kicking off into the night sky.

I almost let out a childlike squeal, as the wind rushed through my hair. I heard Draco chuckle from behind me.

"I told you it wouldn't be too bad," he whispered into my ear. I nodded, leaning into him in an effort to steady myself as he picked speed. I could understand why Draco found such a thrill in flying. Everything from the rush, the power, the sheer excitement was all so exhilarating. My grin widened as we flew over Hogsmeade. It was a beautiful sight. I felt as everything outwardly Slytherin about me, receded. There was no indifferent gaze, no haughty look nor self-satisfying smirk to mask my appreciation for the beauty surrounding me. The lights from the magical village twinkled back at us as we flew past.

I felt Draco change course as we headed back towards Hogwarts, circling the Astronomy Tower and past the numerous spires scattered atop the castle. Draco's chin rested lightly on my left shoulder, and he let out a hearty laugh as my hair flew out and tickled his nose.

My heart swelled, I hadn't heard that laugh from him in a while. I was glad he was happy; he was my best friend, my sole confidante, he deserved to have some joy in his life, despite his troubles at home.

I gazed at the view as we continued circling Hogwarts, approaching the Owlery from the West. My stomach did a pleasant flip as I thought of meeting Harry there in only half an hour. The rush of flying had instigated an adrenaline rush throughout my body. I was ready to see him, now more than ever before.

As we approached one of the highest points on Castle grounds, I turned my head slightly to glance in. I was shocked to only find two emerald green pools staring back at me from within, a frown emanating from their discerning depths. I gasped silently, only to choke momentarily on air, tears filling my eyes from the sudden lack of oxygen. Draco pulled away, looking at me in concern, unknowingly distracting himself from catching sight of his arch nemesis only a few meters away..

"I'm OK," I choked out, my breathing still uneven and heavy. My mind reeled. Harry had just seen her with Draco; in what would seem to be a very intimate scenario to anyone. What must he think? That she was just some common whore playing him for a complete fool?

I could feel my heart thud uneasily from within me at the very thought.

Thrice now today, Harry Potter had left me choking on air.

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**AN: Uh oh, looks like Pansy has some explaining to do. HP/PP interaction will play out in the next chapter, so stay tuned! And don't forget to review :)**


	6. A Tale of Two Foes

EDIT: Sorry for those of you who received an alert for this chapter twice. FFNET was being screwy, and i had to reload the file. None of the chapter contents have been changed.

**AN: Thank you for the great response! Alerts have soared beyond belief. Once again I'm glad you all are enjoying this fic. And now, here is the much awaited HP/PP encounter!**

**A special thanks to my most frequent reviewers azab, ares88, FoxSpiritKing and Sunshine and Chocolate. ****I really do appreciate it. :)**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 6: A Tale of Two Foes**

"Draco, please! Take me down!" I pleaded; my pleasant mood suddenly vanishing. Draco nodded, though questioningly so, slowing down gradually, as to softly touch down near the far end of the Quidditch Pitch.

As soon as I felt the cold ground come in contact with my heels, I hurtled myself off the broom, blindly running off in the direction of the castle. Two strong hands grabbed hold of my shoulders from behind, reeling me around just as quickly as I had darted off.

"What is the matter with you Parkinson?" Draco asked, shaking me slightly with every word.

"I can't explain now," I exclaimed, pulling away from him. "Please Draco, just let me go, I'll tell you everything in due time (lies), but for now you must let me leave!" I insisted, looking up at him pleadingly.

I could tell Draco was not entirely convinced and a bit irked by my reactive behavior. I didn't blame him, my sudden uncharacteristic change in mood would have startled anyone, lest my best friend who took pride in frequently being able to see right through me.

I felt him loosen his grip, stepping away from me hesitantly.

"Trust me," I implored, searching his eyes for an answer.

He nodded, eying me curiously, turning away for only a moment to pick up his broom. It was all I needed, for in that instant I ran with all my might, across the vast Hogwarts grounds and into the castle. Ignoring Draco's questioning calls from behind me, I ran. He would have to wait. I had a bigger problem before me. Climbing flight after flight of stairs, I huffed. I had never run with such haste, with such speed before. I could feel my heart pounding, my mind scrambling to find some sort of explanation, something to appease Potter with. But it came up blank. I had nothing.

Approaching the Owlery, I slowed down to halt, trying in vain to catch my breath. I hoped to God that he was still there. Smoothing my skirts and undoing the tight clasp of my cloak, I climbed the last few stairs leading into the Owlery, entering into the bird haven within.

There he stood, just as before, gazing steadily out the large arch window of the castle, into the clear, moonlit sky.

"Potter…" I began, though uncertainly so.

He didn't turn to look at me. It came as no surprise. He didn't seem to be too startled by my sudden appearance. I suspected he had heard my hasty clamor of an arrival just outside.

"Parkinson," he countered, I sensed a strain in his voice. I sighed, hesitantly stepping closer to him. I might as well be forward, mention the prevalent subject. There was no reason to evade the inevitable.

"I noticed you watching, while I was with Draco," I began, observing his expressions closely, for any reaction.

His face showed none. He could bloody well have been a Slytherin had his scarf not screamed Gryffindor.

"I did, though by chance. I didn't realize you and Ferret were still on such…_cozy _terms," he stated coolly.

"Draco and I are simply good friends, similar to you and Granger," I replied, trying to keep my tone just as even. The argument over my relationship with Draco often caused an uglier side of me to boil over. One I was sure would scare Potter off in a second, ruining all my chances with him in an instant.

"I see," was all he said in response. Determined, I boldly took another step forward, gazing at him steadily. One more step and my nose would brush against his chiseled jaw. I felt unsteady at the overwhelming proximity, exhaling quietly in an effort to keep my cool.

"Do you believe me?" I questioned openly, wishing that he would just turn and grant me one glance. It would make the matter at hand much easier to convey.

"You are a Slytherin, and no friend of mine. I've been taught not to do so," he stated evenly.

I felt a pang within me. Making a more daring move, I took my hand, placing it gently over his in earnest. I was relieved to see, that he did not make move to pull away.

"Yet here we are, and by your invitation, might I add" I demanded heatedly, "Just give me a chance. Allow me to show you otherwise," I coaxed, softening my tone.

He must have sensed my sincerity, Slytherin or not, for he turned to gaze at me, his green eyes even more startling up close in person.

"I guess," he relented flatly, though a bit reluctantly so. "But on one condition," he added, pulling his hand away from mine.

My brow creased, "and what would that be?" I questioned.

"Tell me honestly, are you my secret admirer or not?" he asked.

I gulped, blushing furiously. "Perhaps…" I responded, looking away from him.

"It's a yes or no question, Parkinson," he said crossing his arms.

"Fine…" I huffed, "It was me," I relented, looking back at him rather flustered.

"Funny how you're so shy to admit _that_, yet bold enough to wink at me, for the world to see, in the Great Hall," Potter commented, eying me squarely.

I let out a nervous laugh, "I suppose," I answered, staring back at him, "it was fun while it lasted…"

"I'm sure," he prodded with a hint of a grin, "you probably are one the most pompous secret admirers, to date."

I blushed again, unable to hide my growing smile.

"What was it again?" he asked, "_more splendid than Cho Chang herself_?"

I whacked his arm good-naturedly, "Please Potter! Don't quote myself back to me!" I complained, turning away indignantly.

"What? Isn't that what you Slytherins like most? Listening to yourselves talk?" Potter asked innocently.

"No, that's more just…Draco…" I retorted lamely.

Potter laughed, taking the moment to mentally torment his blonde-haired arch nemesis.

"You know this is all rather odd…" he stated, his face suddenly somber.

I glanced over at him, "you mean…the idea of… us?" I asked back. Wondering what in fact "us" meant.

He nodded, "if things were even to work out," he replied, "all these years, we've hated each other."

"Correction, all these years you and Draco hated each other. I think the rest of the hate was a bit forced, noncommittal," I insisted.

"Are you calling me a conformist?" he questioned. I couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not.

"Seriously Potter," I responded, "it was a bit of a farce, for the other Slytherins, even for Weaslebee and Granger; don't you think?" I questioned back, just as curious. "Not that we would have gotten along anyhow, with the long standing Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry, but I'm sure much of the hate beyond you and Draco- is just jumping the bandwagon, in my opinion. Mind you, I prefer not to associate with Gryffindors regardless, but as far as complete loathing and detest goes I'm not sure even I've hit that extreme of an emotion," I finished, personally impressed by my impromptu speech.

Potter eyed me warily; I could tell he was pondering the underlying meaning of my words. There was some truth in them after all, a bit that he may have overlooked these past several years.

"I couldn't quite imagine myself becoming chummy with any Slytherins," he finally stated, rather flatly.

"You're talking to me though now aren't you?" I asked back, trying in vain to prove a point. "From the looks of it, it seems fairly civil as well,"

"I suppose, but you're a _girl_, and that makes things different. Plus, if there's an attraction involved, it changes things. But other than that, as far as Gryffindor and Slytherin are concerned, any form of civility is doomed," he concluded.

I felt my stomach flutter momentarily. He had admitted his attraction to me, even if it was indirectly. I was so elated by the thought that I almost missed the remainder of his reasoning.

"True, but had you lot been in Hufflepuff, and we all been in Ravenclaw, there would have been no hate between us. We may have even gotten along," I insisted, trying in vain to prove a point.

"You realize that it wasn't by chance that we landed ourselves in those houses. We were placed there for a reason, because of our innate qualities. With qualities like those, a friendship, or even a truce would be near impossible," he argued back.

I nodded, defeated for once. He had a point after all.

"Is there hope for us yet?" I asked hesitantly, placing a wary hand on his shoulder.

He surprised me by suddenly taking a hold of my hand, gently pulling myself closer to him, "We'll try to make things work," he answered softly.

"Give it our best shot."

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**AN: I hope I did not disappoint anyone (too much). It's quite hard to write situations which J.K. Rowling steered completely clear of, so I just gave it my best. Please tell me what you think! Make my day and review!**


	7. Suspicious Suspicions

**AN: Thank you for the lovely response. The recent HP/PP encounter really caused those story alerts to shoot up, nearly doubling, in fact. **

**A special thanks again to my most frequent reviewers azab, ares88, FoxSpiritKing and Sunshine and Chocolate. ****I really do appreciate it. :)**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 7: Suspicious Suspicions**

The next morning was no average morning for Pansy Parkinson. The Slytherin Queen awoke with a brilliant smile on her face. Up a full hour before her housemates were, she took her time prancing about the dormitory, preparing for the day before her. After a rather calming bath and an extra twirl in front of the mirror she exited the dungeons, almost floating to the Great Hall.

A pleasant hum filled the air as she took seat at the Slytherin table, pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee whilst stirring in cream. Only a few early-risers were found scattered through the Great Hall, many busily flipping through sheets of parchments as they munched quietly on breakfast.

Pansy snuck a quick glance at the Gryffindor table, noticing that only a handful of first years were present along with a quite frazzled looking Granger. Pansy smirked to herself, watching curiously as the bushy-haired brunette furiously scribbled away, determination written clearly across her face. Potter and Weasley were yet to be seen, probably savoring every minute of sleep before making a quick scramble to the Great Hall.

The thought of Harry, brought a blush to her cheeks. She wondered when she would see him next, in private of course. Their public encounters would be sparse if any; after all there was a certain school rivalry to sustain, appearances to be kept.

Pansy was quickly brought out of her thoughts, as Draco's sudden presence surprised her. Following the fellow Slytherin's gaze, Draco sneered.

"A right nasty sight isn't she?" he remarked, as Granger continued to write away, oblivious to his remarks.

Pansy nodded, swirling her coffee idly, "I can't help but agree," she responded, suddenly wishing she wasn't part of this conversation.

Draco eyed her curiously, "So Parkinson, care to share your little theatrical act from yesterday?"

Pansy huffed. Wishing he had forgotten. _Tough luck_, she mused. "Can't we just drop it?" she asked distractedly, hoping he wouldn't pry.

Draco let out a cough, undoubtedly interested in what his best friend was so keen to hide.

"Whatever Pansy, you know I'll figure out before long. Might as well hear it from you, than from Greengrass or Bullstrode," he egged, urging her to spill.

Pansy smirked, fully aware of the fair-haired boy's underhanded tactics, "Fine by me," she remarked. "I'm sure their version of the story will be more satisfying to hear," she retorted grimly.

Draco scowled, the conversation clearly had taken the undesired route, "as you wish," he responded glumly, watching absently as Pansy quickly gathered her things, casting him a nonchalant glance before striding out the Great Hall.

Turning back to his own porridge he noticed a scrap of folded parchment beside where Pansy had been sitting.

Unfolding it quickly, his eyes flew across the messy scribble.

_You are more beautiful than the starry night sky._

Draco scoffed, quickly flipping the scrap over, to only find it blank on the other side. _Was this some sort of joke?_ he wondered, his brow creasing at the very thought. Mulling over who had sent her the missive, the Slytherin frowned in confusion, wondering if this nary admirer was the cause to her sudden distress.

Glancing back at the parchment, he read it once again. The note was definitely the more sappy of its kind. _Did this person really have nothing more clever to say_? The Slytherin glowered quietly in his seat as a new possibility dawned upon him. Perhaps Pansy's secret love interest was no cunning Slytherin after all.

Draco gazed back at the now-closed Great Hall doors, wondering what it was that Pansy Parkinson was up to and who she was so desperate to hide.

Not too far from that very spot, the girl in question had just run into a rather snarky looking Daphne Greengrass and a very sleepy-ridden Millicent Bullstrode.

"Went to breakfast without us, I see," Daphne stated, an accusation clear in her voice.

Pansy glared, "I was up quite early. I didn't see reason to stick around while the rest of you slept," she responded evenly.

Millicent nodded, finding logic in Pansy's words. But the other Slytherin was not as quick to believe.

"You haven't been around much," Daphne continued, droning on in her nasally voice. "And now I see you've even take to avoiding us at meals," she blamed; hear beady eyes narrowing in disdain.

"Really Daphne, "Pansy argued, "You're reading into things far more than is necessary. We all know how busy school has kept us. Does it honestly come as much of a surprise that our schedules don't perfectly match?" she asked testily.

Daphne huffed, crossing her arms. "Whatever," she muttered, dragging Millicent off as they continued to the Great Hall.

Pansy glared at the other girl's retreating figure, though her expression softened as Millicent shot her an apologetic glance. Pansy nodded in return. Daphne clearly was not a morning person.

As she continued on through the swarm of students Pansy noticed Longbottom, Potter and the Weasley girl making their way to the Great Hall.

Maintaining an indifferent gaze, the Slytherin quietly wondered if he had yet to take notice of her presence**. **One glance was enough to confirm her query, as their eyes met momentarily causing a wild flutter of her heart. She regarded the other boy coolly as he turned to send her a sly wink in return. Walking past the trio, a warm hand casually grazed against her own, gently pressing a slip of parchment into her unsuspecting grasp.

She smiled to herself, entering the empty common room and reclining languidly on a plush divan. Unfolding the piece of parchment, her eyes quickly devoured the sparse words written in his hasty scrawl.

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_P,_

_Calm to the eyes, it rests forbidden. Full of life, its magic well-hidden._

_Where men sing hymns of magic and mirth, find me waiting whilst sun meets earth._

_H._

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**AN: An advanced view of Chapter 8 for the first person who can guess the time and the place mentioned in Harry's note! I hope you all enjoyed this installment. Please don't hesitate to review!**

**For clarification Purposes: I will go in and make an additional author's note (with the name of the winner) when someone guesses both details correctly, and of course PM them regarding their win.**


	8. Tangled While Leaping

**AN: Not much to say really. I hope everyone is enjoying the fic. Classes start back up for me soon, so future installments won't be as often as they have been. Oh and- some of you may have noticed that I switched into third person for the last chapter, that was mainly so I could include that small section from Draco's POV, but as it was earlier, the fic will mainly be from Pansy's POV.**

**A special thanks again to my most frequent reviewers FoxSpiriKing, ares88, and Sunshine and Chocolate. ****I love you guys :)**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 8: Tangled While Leaping**

An enormous smile gleamed across my face as I hurriedly set to work, trying to decipher the riddle at hand. _Whilst sun meets earth_, was simple enough, Potter wanted to meet at sunset. But the location? That was a far more tricky. The first line was awfully vague, somewhere _magical, calm_ and _hidden_ described most places on Hogwarts grounds. The word _hidden_ did strike me as a bit odd. Hogwarts was a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Why and how could magic possibly be _hidden_ there?

Rereading the phrase, the word _forbidden _too struck me as peculiar, automatically directing my thoughts to the forbidden forest. Though I doubted Potter would want to meet in an area so dangerous and prohibited, it just didn't make sense.

Sighing I glanced at the second line in hopes of reprieve. _Where men sing hymns of magic and mirth?_ The idea of anyone within Hogwarts singing brought a rather unladylike snort out of me. And _men _nonetheless. I knew Professor Flitwick managed a certain choir of some sort. But my rather vague memory of it held that the group consisted mainly of girls, no _men _stood out in particular. I stared into the fireplace before me, my mind drawing a complete blank. I had no idea what Potter meant by his words, and the curiosity was killing me.

My face fell, as a rather unnerving thought dawned upon me. I hoped Harry would never mention a certain fact about a location that I would be unaware of. The very idea of it was horrifying, rendering me unable to pinpoint his location, and leaving him feeling rather miffed over my seemingly intentional absence. I huffed, glancing back at the parchment once again, wracking my brain for ideas. The words '_where men sing hymns'_ was throwing me for a bloody loop. Potter wouldn't want to meet in the presence of others that would be simply terrifying and rather foolish on his part. I groaned, thinking of when I had seen or heard people sing. I knew Hogsmeade near the holidays often had a rather abundant amount of carolers, but such a location was so far on foot, and presumably unlikely.

Stuffing the slip of parchment back into my cloak pocket, I stood up, reluctantly exiting the Slytherin Common Room. Morning classes were soon to start and I technically had until sundown to rip through Potter's clever mystery. Taking my usual seat beside Draco, I pulled out my Advanced Potions textbook, idly sifting through it. My efforts to deter Draco's gaze were in vain, as I felt his prying eyes continue to watch me. He reclined lazily in his seat, pushing him out of my peripheral vision. I damned myself for insisting on having such good posture. It really was a disadvantage in times like these.

A swarm of Gryffindors soon entered, and I felt myself suddenly stiffen. I had completely forgotten that I shared double Potions with Potter and crew. My stomach did an uneasy flip, I didn't dare look up. Draco was too observant for his own good. Once glance at Potter would be enough to confirm any of his growing suspicions.

Feeling rather flustered and somewhat sick, I finally looked up as I felt Millicent's hand on my shoulder.

"You OK?" she whispered. I nodded, shrugging her off offhandedly.

"I'm fine," I muttered back. Millicent was not convinced by my words. I didn't blame her, nor was I.

I felt Draco, straighten up in his seat, his knowing presence hovering near my own. A cool hand glided across my shoulder blades as he leaned in to speak to me.

"You seam awfully tense today Parkinson," he noted softly, more to himself than to me.

I glared at him momentarily, and then chose to look away, huffing to myself in unease.

I didn't have to look at him to know that Draco Malfoy was, at this moment, smirking. He had something up his sleeve and the very idea of it was unnerving.

"I saw that note," he continued casually, a cynical glee evident in voice. I felt my mouth go dry, my insides turning about uncomfortably.

_But how?_ I wondered in shock. Potter's most recent note was presently in my pocket and his previous ones stowed away in my old Potions text. It was impossible.

I turned to him, nonchalantly. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I countered evenly.

He raised an eyebrow at his, still smirking. "Is that so, Parkinson?" he pried, his grey eyes twinkling. "Then explain this," he insisted, pulling out a folded piece of parchment from within his shirt pocket.

I quickly unfolded the scrap, reading the simple line scribbled across it. Tossing it aside I let out a rather maniacal laugh.

"This is what you are so curious about?" I asked, grasping the desk to keep from chuckling.

Draco stared at me, clearly confused and somewhat startled. "What's so funny about this?" he questioned. "Someone obviously sent this to you. And I want to know who!" he demanded, trying to maintain the seriousness of the conversation.

I smirked at him. "You're not the only one, Malfoy," I retorted easily. "I've been receiving these bloody snippets for a month now. Each one as vague as the last."

Draco gazed at me suspiciously. "Then why have you never mentioned it?" he asked, skepticism marking his words.

I rolled my eyes, unfazed. "It really didn't seem to be anything to bother with. Most likely one of the lower years, eager to show themselves up," I shrugged off casually.

The other Slytherin only nodded, seemingly convinced for now. I turned away, letting out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. That had been a close call. The note must have been one that I had taken with me before meeting Draco at the Quidditch pitch, yet left unread in my pocket. I was thankful it wasn't one of Harry's, the consequences then would have been dreadful. I could still tell that despite his best efforts, Draco clearly was still curious regarding recent developments. I knew I didn't owe him any explanations. But the entire concept of dating the best friend's worst enemy was deemed as sheer betrayal in any book.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as class dragged on at a morbidly slow pace. It took all my self control to not glance over every so often at the Gryffindor tables. Not only would Draco pick up on my less-than-subtle behavior, but I was sure Potter's faithful lackeys, would do so as well.

Instead of bothering myself with the present, my mind drifted off, tangling itself back in Potter's riddle. I gazed out the half sunken window absently, damning the dungeons for its consistently dreary atmosphere. I wondered if Snape could ever be convinced of holding lecture outdoors on occasion, the fresh air would do everyone some good.

My thoughts continued to drift as I watched a group of seventh years outside walk about leisurely while on free period, a few of them pausing briefly to skip rocks across the Black Lake.

My mind reeled back to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and to the details of Potter's fateful task. He was a hero to everyone even then, rescuing not only Weasley, but his competitor's sibling as well. Outside, one of the seventh years laughed in surprise as a tentacle quickly lashed out and caught hold of a skipping rock mid-air. I smiled at the sight, as the flighty tentacle quickly re-submerged itself into the blackness within, probably now dodging mermen as it swam, grasping tightly onto its momentous prize.

My eyes suddenly widened in realization. "The Black Lake!" I exclaimed aloud, for all to hear.

Professor Snape stopped mid-sentence, gazing at me irritably. I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes fell upon me, a series of snickers echoing throughout the damp dungeon walls.

"Do try to keep your thoughts to yourself Miss Parkinson," Snape reproached coolly, casting me a rather severe glance.

I nodded, "My apologies Professor," I stated quietly. The Slytherin Head of House nodded grimly, continuing on with his lecture.

I took my chances, ignoring Draco's questioning gaze, as I glanced over to where the Golden Trio sat. Potter stared ahead seemingly unfazed, though the slight upward twitch of his mouth claimed otherwise

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**AN: I hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


	9. Seeking Providence

**AN: Hello all, thanks for the reviews and adds. As always it means a lot :) Anyways, here is the next installment. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 9: Seeking Providence**

Sunset could not come soon enough as I clamored through the rest of my classes, each one as boring as the last. Dinner was a hasty affair. I pointedly ignored Daphne's snide looks as I practically pulled a Weasley and inhaled my pasta in a handful of sporadic gulps. Draco was quieter than usual, not saying much. I was sure he knew I was up to something, my cool excuse of having work to finish was not as far reaching as I had expected. Nonetheless, his thoughts could wait, I had _Potter_ to attend to.

Stuffing my books into the empty drawers of my desk, I quickly grabbed my hairbrush running it through my soft black hair. It was significantly longer now, longer than I had ever had it before. I wasn't quite sure if I liked it….if Harry did like it. My head shook at the thought, I couldn't believe that I was so ready to impress Harry Potter, it was like no crush I had ever before. And that very idea terrified me. I was so susceptible to him these days, my emotions more vulnerable and open to perusal. It was a devastating realization for a Slytherin, such as myself, to be unearthed from their indifference and thrown so haphazardly into another world of its own. One I refused to ever think of. The world of love.

I let out a momentary shriek as the thought stampeded across my mind. Hastily setting my comb down and doing a slightly hurried spin in front of the mirror, I grabbed my wand and headed out of the dungeon corridors and into the stairwell within.

My trek from the dormitories and into the chilly night air was a blur, my thoughts jumbled and frantic. I took a deep breath in an effort to clear my mind. There was no reason in looking openly flustered during my meeting with Potter, it was simply too embarrassing to even think about.

The Black Lake loomed ahead as the last of sunlight peeked out over the horizon. The moon already held its own, glowing softly from above, leaving glittering trails over the lake's still surface. I rushed forward, my strides long but not rushed. Searching the growing darkness for any sign of life, a small frown formed on my face as I saw none.

I continued on determined, he had to be here…somewhere.

It was then I saw him.

Reclining on a pale rock he sat. A warm smile highlighting his strong features, his green eyes alit. I grinned back, rather widely. I hoped he didn't consider it silly. I was just too excited to finally see him, to have him all to myself. As I neared the edge of the water I noticed the Black Lake was full of lighted lily pads, twinkling fiercely in the darkness.

"A handy bit of magic, don't you think?" he asked softly from behind me.

I nodded, watching the glowing greenery move slowly about as the occasional wind brushed past them unsuspectingly. Harry reached out to hold my hand, leading me further from the castle, as we walked along the lake's edge, reaching a clearing ahead.

Bathed in moonlight, and overcast by flighty vines lay a small blanket and what seemed to be a basket of some sort.

Taking his lead, I sat down beside him. "It's not much," he said abruptly with a shrug.

I turned to him still smiling, "it's more than enough," I replied gazing out at the beautiful view. I couldn't believe that after all these years, Hogwarts was still full of so many pleasant surprises.

Reaching into the basket, he pulled out a clear bowl of chocolate covered strawberries alongside a small white cake.

"I figured you would have skipped dessert to head down here in time," he said motioning to the sweets.

I nodded, "you have no idea how fast I ate," I replied. "Might have even given your friend Weasley a run for his money," I added, holding back a small smirk at the irony of the statement.

Harry chuckled, holding out a strawberry for me to take. I eyed it curiously, boldly moving closer to bite into it rather than simply taking the fruit from his outstretched hand. Harry's eyes widened slightly at my sudden audacity, but he didn't stop me, as he fed me the fruit. Carelessly tossing the green stem over his shoulder as I took my last bite, I licked my lips consciously, mindful of the juice that must have made its way to the outs of my mouth as I feasted on the treat.

I seemed too slow in handling the task, for before I knew it, Harry was even closer than before, his lips brushing softly against mine in earnest. My heart continued to flutter as he reached out to cup my cheek gently. I kissed him back, biting back a soft moan as his tongue trailed across my bottom lip seeking entrance. My lips parted, willing to oblige as my fingers tangled themselves in his thick raven locks.

Leaning back as we kissed, I rested against the soft blanket underneath. He pulled away slowly, slightly out of breath, his emerald green eyes now a dark jade, a shade I had never seen on him before. Lying down beside me, he pecked me on the lips again. But before he could pull back, my lips sought his again, deepening the once-chaste kiss. I felt him smile against my lips as his free hand raked through my straight hair slowly, returning back later to cup my cheek yet again.

I sighed, Harry proved to be no typical boy. Unlike Draco and Blaise, his hands did not push past in a haste, groping about while he still had the chance. I closed my eyes as I felt him leave a trail of kisses down my neck, finally resting back on my forehead where he planted his final kiss.

I opened my eyes, staring back into his, this time armed with no furious blush nor unsteady gaze. Harry smiled back at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're amazing," he whispered, "I'm sorry if I pushed things too far," he added guiltily.

My brow creased at his shame, "Harry," I said softly, the name foreign on my tongue. "You proved to be more of a gentleman than I could have ever expected, don't worry."

He nodded, sensing the sincerity in my dark eyes. "As long as you're sure," he replied, his thumb running across my pale cheek.

I smiled at him softly, finally looking away and to the abandoned pastries.

"Looks like your plans for dessert didn't go as expected," I stated with a laugh. Harry chuckled from beside me, sitting up as he snagged a stem-less strawberry, swallowing it in one bite.

"I didn't mind a bit," he retorted playfully, sending me a wink. I grabbed another strawberry tossing it at him inadvertently. His hand whipped out, snatching the fruit from the air as he dangled it teasingly in front of me.

"Trying to sneak past my seeker reflexes?" he asked, with a laugh. I looked at him slyly, "maybe," I responded innocently, reaching out to grab the fruit.

Harry grinned, pulling his arm back in and away from me. "Not so fast, Parkinson," he teased, twirling the strawberry between his nimble fingers.

I pouted turning away, feeling him inch towards me as I did so. "Now, now, Pansy," he cooed, "why the sad face?"

I turned to glare at him playfully, only to feel his cool lips once again on mine. I closed my eyes, gasping as he pulled me closer, flush against his chest.

I sighed belatedly, my hands once again entangling themselves in his lush hair. I was in heaven. Free-falling languidly through the luminous clouds of the sky above and into a land I had never experienced before.

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**AN: And there you have it, their first kiss/date/whatever you want to call it! I hope it was not too disappointing, I'm really bad with all this romantic writing. So forgive me if you were in shocked into abhor. **


	10. Caught in Hysteria

**AN: So I am the most terrible person in the world! I know, I know. It has been ages since I have last updated. But fear not, for it is now spring break! And hopefully you will hear from me more often than not :)**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 10: Caught in Hysteria**

The following morning was a hurried affair. A day jam-packed with potions _and _charms was no fun, no fun at all. My sincere plans to do homework following my little meet with Harry were doomed from the very start. Subsequent to parting ways later that night, only idle daydreaming and googly-eyed ness were found to follow. It was terrible. Simply terrible.

After swallowing an entire boiled egg in simply three bites, I made a beeline for the library. My motivation to finish my homework was so Granger-like, it was almost disgusting.

Speaking of Granger…not as soon as I had fully set a foot into the doorway did I notice her conspicuous presence. Hands on hips and a freshly polished shoe evenly tapping the wooden floor beneath, the ever-famous geeky bookworm, Hermione Granger did not look so pleased. Only a few feet away sat a rather fearful looking Ronald Weasley, his face flushed to match his unruly hair.

I snickered at the sight, but only too soon it seemed, for just as the vile gesture slipped through my curled lips, I found myself eye-to-eye with the bushy-haired Gryffindor in question. Her eyes were aglow, furious, as I met her stare with an even glare of my own. Friend of Harry Potter or not, no mudblood dared to look at me so.

She whipped back to face her friend as I passed. I smirked, one ear perfectly trained on their private conversation as I walked past.

"Ronald!" Granger fumed in a harsh whisper, attempting to regain the redhead's attention.

"I swear! I didn't see him," he pleaded. "You were there when we were together last, at dinner last night!" Weasley defended, his ears now bright red.

I purposely sat down at a table not too far from where they sat, just within earshot. My brow crinkled in confusion, as I idly flipped through my charms book, the chapter titles blurring together in confusion.

Was it Harry they were talking about? I had been so busy this morning; I hadn't even bothered glancing over to the Gryffindor table to seek him out. He must have been there, where else could he have been?

"I don't understand how he could not have been in the boys' dormitory this morning! If he's not at the pitch, and wasn't in the Great Hall, then where else could he be?" Granger seethed, her quick words slicing through the air.

Weasley sighed, anxiously running a hand through his thoroughly tangled hair. "I don't know Hermione, I really don't," he mumbled in defeat.

Hermione sighed, uncharacteristically flopping down in the seat across from Weasley.

"What if something's happened?" she whispered, "should we ask Dumbledore?" she questioned softly.

I could feel my heart thud unevenly within me. Harry hadn't mentioned having any other plans last night after meeting me. From what I knew, he too had headed back to his room to sleep following our brief visit.

I stared blankly at my unfinished Charms homework, slamming my book back shut. It was useless; I was too jittery and anxious now to get anything done at this point. It would be a failed assignment on my part; I had lost my focus long ago.

My thoughts were interrupted as Weasley finally spoke up. "I guess so," he mumbled quietly. "You don't think…you know...that V-Voldemort had anything to do with this, do ya?" he asked helplessly.

My heart almost launched out of my throat at the very thought. Granger looked almost fearful now, her eyes red in what seemed to be either anger or pure distress. Hastily throwing her things back into her bag, she grabbed hold of Weasley's arm, hastily dragging him out of the library after her.

I sat still, finally cradling my head in my hands as I tried to wrack my brain for any clues. I was going blank. I had no idea where Harry could possibly be despite having seen him so recently, even more recently than Granger and Weasley themselves.

I wished silently to be their shadows, trailing behind them to Dumbledore's office as they rushed past. I had to know where he was. What could possibly have happened in such little time?

Around me I noticed that students were beginning to pack up, milling about busily as the hour approached. I absently stood up as if in a trance, making my way silently to Charms, unfinished homework in hand.

Sitting down beside Draco, I didn't even bother to acknowledge him. My head was clouded in misery and despair. I glanced to the side to notice the trio's bench empty. In the past I would have been thrilled at such a spectacle, but now the sight made me feel uneasy, practically nauseous.

I sighed, trying my best to plaster on an apathetic expression. I could already sense Malfoy's gaze on me, silently questioning my every mannerism. I was so frustrated I just wanted to slap him. I groaned inwardly, this wasn't his fault, I just wished to channel my anguish elsewhere, but I was forced to wade in my own self-misery; this was no place to vent.

"Tsk Parkinson," Malfoy finally spoke, motioning to my incomplete homework assignment. "It'll do you no good to skive off on assignments like this."

I simple chose to glare at him as he snatched it up and headed to the front of the classroom to hand our papers in. It was now Malfoy's turn to notice the golden trio's conspicuous absence.

He snickered quietly, slipping easily back into his seat. "Now that's a sight," he quipped, his eyebrow raised. "It's interesting that they're all missing," he pried his eyes observing their empty bench as if seeking out hidden clues. "Who knew Gryffindor's preferred their threesomes this early in the morning."

My face twisted into a scowl as I glared at Malfoy. "That's sick and you know it," I scolded irritably, crossing my arms in front of me.

Malfoy chuckled. "What's put your knickers into a twist this morning?" he whispered leaning closer to me.

I continued to look ahead glaring evenly. "Someone leave you…unsatisfied?" he teased devilishly.

I felt chills run down my back, as the words slipped out of his mouth. Malfoy always had an uncanny ability to say the things you least wanted to be known or even thought of, without any sense of warrant.

I held my glare, playing idly with my quill as Flitwick flitted about at the front of the classroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I felt Malfoy's words echo uneasily in my mind. I tried in vain to tune out the professor's monotonous drone and seek reason in my mind. I groaned, it was hopeless.

Malfoy was still peering at me questioningly, his amused face now serious.

Placing the back of his cool hand on my forehead, his own crinkled in confusion. "You're working up a fever Pansy," he murmured.

I lifted a hand to my cheek softly, it burned gently under my touch and I realized I was feeling even more anxious now than usual, my emotions running on overdrive.

"What's the matter, Parkinson?" Draco asked again, noting my continued silence. I shook my head absently. But no sooner had I done so, Draco's hand quickly shot up in the air, interrupting Flitwick's lecture mid-word.

Before I knew it, I was practically being carted off towards the hospital wing. I mumbled vague nothings in confusion, trying to insist my way out of going to the dreaded infirmary. I had no time to sit idly in bed, being drugged my sleep inducing potions and fever preventing potions alike.

Scuffing my new shoe as I dragged myself into the hospital wing behind Draco I was met by a horrid sight. Granger and Weasley sat stone-still on either side of a cot further down the hospital wing. His raven hair was impossible to miss in any state. Within mere seconds his eyes locked onto mine and I could feel myself crumble from within.

Bloodied and bruised, he lay, practically immobilized by both his cot and his injuries alike. I had never seen anything so terrible before, so gruesome.

How could this be? Who could possibly have done this? I could even feel Draco flinch from beside me, his hand still securely holding onto mine.

I stiffly sat down, as Draco pushed me towards a cot, Harry's eyes watching me all the while. I gazed back, noticing the corner of his mouth tug softly, as if attempting to smile.

I gasped as my throat contracted uneasily, it was simply too much to bear. I felt my self burying my face into Draco's robes as I let out a furious sob. Pressing my face even deeper into his stronghold, I tried in vain to muffle my cries. But before I knew it, all hell had broken lose and the tears came.

Little did I know at the time, that Harry's afflicter and my consoler were one and the same.

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**AN: Sorry for the cliffie! But please review :)**


	11. Acrimoniously in Love

**AN: Hooray! Summer has finally arrived, and hopefully with it, more updates as well! It has been so long since I've updated all of my stories that I had to reread them myself. Sorry again for the wait, and without further do, I hope you enjoy this next installment :)**

**Disclaimer: JRK owns.**

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**Chapter 11: Love Laden Acrimony **

I awoke hours later. My bedside chair was now empty. I assumed that Draco must have left at some point to catch a meal or grab school work. I sighed, blinking blearily and gazed to my right. Weasley was out of sight, but a studious-looking Hermione Granger still sat at Harry's bedside intently reading a rather huge tome which I swore had never been part of our mandatory school curriculum.

I gazed to her side, hoping that what I would see would not be too much to bear. Harry was now sound asleep, the gentle rise and lowering of his chest noticeable as he slept on, probably by aid of a sleeping draught. He looked better, that was for sure. His sickly complexion had cleared up a bit, and the large bruise his right cheekbone had wielded was now more subdued. I smiled softly at the sight.

As I drew out of my languid thoughts, I noticed Granger's frequent page-turning had become more intermittent…practically nonexistent. I glanced over at her to only be met by a harsh gaze.

"Don't think we don't know who's done this," he threatened menacingly.

I narrowed my eyes in response. "What's that supposed to mean, mudblood?" I questioned back, rather crudely.

She scoffed; her brown eyes aglow. "Malfoy's family crest was practically branded onto Harry from one of the punches he threw," she remarked angrily.

My breath caught. She couldn't be serious.

"As if that were even necessary evidence," Granger ranted. "The whole school knows that Malfoy is following in his father's footsteps; joining the Death Eaters."

My blood boiled at her final accusation. Draco and Harry's rivalry was nothing new, yet this was taking things too far. Draco had never wanted to become a Death Eater like his father. A rueful declaration from him two summers ago had been enough proof of that. Never had he wished to join the Dark Arts, it was the something the two of us had in common.

I turned away from Granger in my cot, her bitter words ringing through my ears.

"_Malfoy's family crest was practically branded onto Harry…"_

The platinum and emerald encrusted ring had been a gift to Draco on his 16th birthday, a prized family heirloom which had been passed down since the days of Abraxas Malfoy's father, Draco's great-grandfather.

I felt angry tears prick my eyes. How could Draco do this? And why? It had all happened so suddenly. Last night they had been together, and alone. Draco must have accosted him afterwards. Had he seen them together?

At that moment, the devil himself strode into the Hospital Wing, a red-faced Weasley at his heels.

I quickly wiped my tears away, choosing to simply stare straight ahead. I was in no mood to deal with Draco right now. I was furious.

From behind me, I heard Granger's large book snap shut, her chair scraping against the floor as she suddenly stood up.

"Here to inspect that damage you've done?" she spat at Draco.

"I haven't done a thing to Pansy," he retorted innocently, plunking himself into a nearby chair.

"You _know_ what I mean Malfoy," she remarked through gritted teeth.

"Don't think we won't be telling Dumbledore," Weasley sputtered, finally speaking up.

"Oh yeah?" Draco questioned, "And exactly what are you going to tell him?"

"Acting like you don't know, huh?" Weasley asked fiercely, his fists tightly clenched. I squeezed my eyes shut at the palpable tension within the room. I was surprised Weasley hadn't attempted to slug Draco already.

"Don't bother, Ron," Hermione demanded from beside her friend, tugging at his Gryffindor robes. "There's no point in speaking to such…vermin anyways," she hissed.

"Speak for yourself," Draco spat back, his arms crossed as he glared defiantly at Granger.

"Miss Granger! Mister Malfoy!" exclaimed a suddenly present Madam Pomfrey. "I will not tolerate such behavior from the two of you, in the hospital wing nonetheless! As prefects it is your role to set an example," she huffed angrily.

Granger nodded apologetically scurrying out, hugging her book to herself. I felt a cool breeze as she passed by, her dark brown eyes boring into both Malfoy and I as she left.

Weasley sat down gruffly, in Granger's abandoned seat, looking away from us as Madame Pomfrey approached Harry, taking his current vitals.

"Thanks for the support back there," Draco sarcastically whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, still angry at him. I wished I too could lash out at him, as Granger previously had.

"Are you trying to get yourself expelled?" I hissed at him through my teeth.

Draco glared back at me, not taking kind to the fact that I had responded to his accusation with a question of my own.

"I should have known all along," he jeered. "Living up to your first name by getting cozy with a good for nothing, Gryffindor."

So he knew.

My heart stopped. Whose side would I know take? Would I defend Potter? Or defend my pride?

"What's it to you Malfoy?" I countered, "Who are you to be so keen in meddling with my personal life?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Oh I don't know," he whispered back. "Maybe your best friend? Your confidante since the day we were born?"

I glared at him.

"And since when did you take an interest in _Potter?_" he asked, emphasizing the other boy's name as if it were a disease.

"Have you forgotten your upbringing? Our parentage?" he ranted on in a slur of rage. "We are pureblood Slytherins, families linked directly to the Dark Arts. To us, Potter is equivalent to the antichrist.

I snorted. Harry as the antichrist? From where I sat he was everything but.

Draco glared at my choice of response. "Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord would do if he found out about such an alliance?" he asked, his voice still laden with anger but now concerned.

"As if I care," I retorted rolling my eyes. "I have no concern for the Dark Arts, but I do…for Harry," I whispered, soothed by just the sound of his name.

It such a relief to say such a thing out loud; to announce one's feelings openly.

Draco's face was no burning with anger. An appearance which was rare for him, being raised by a pureblood family had taught him not to be so forthright with his emotions.

"This is more than just…a fling?" he growled. "I was trying to protect you…" he sputtered with rage. "I thought atleast he was blackmailing you into this association!"

"Control yourself, Malfoy," I hissed. "My love life is no concern of anybody but myself," I stated firmly, making my point clear.

"And what of us?" he questioned, his steely eyes suddenly amalgamating with yet another emotion.

"What of us?" I snapped back tersely.

"What of our love?" he whispered bitterly. "Or have you already forgotten?"

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**A/N: Read and Review!**


	12. A Note From Your Most Humble Author

**AN: I have recently been considering continuing this story which I never quite got around to finishing. It has been years since I last thought about it but somewhere deep inside me I wish to rejoin the world of fan fiction as an author once again. I would appreciate all your input on the matter. And depending on comments/reviews I will make the decision to continue this story line or not.**


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